


Fresh laundry and the dirtying

by TheSheMartian



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Consent....?, Gay Sex, Guilty pleasure!, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Somnophilia, Spock is an ugly sleeper, Star Trek - Freeform, bondmates, bottom!Kirk, drunk!Kirk, i understand why people tag like this, preexisting relationship, top!spock, wake up sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSheMartian/pseuds/TheSheMartian
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	Fresh laundry and the dirtying

Spock dragged his fingers into the fresh bedsheet, enticed by the clean cold the fabric shot below his fingernails. The man hummed, snaking onto the bed with his face running across. He lay like that, bringing his arms to stretch elegantly into the bed, trying to retrieve the guilty pleasure of crisp chill from a soft sheet.

Vulcans are practically like Terran reptiles; don’t do well in the cold. They can’t vibrate like humans and most humanoids can in order to regain their warmth having been evolved on Vulcan, a desert planet amidst the stars. 

This bite of the forbidden temperature would do no harm at all, but other Vulcans—maybe, even some humans, may deem this action illogical, unnecessary. Frankly, Spock didn’t care. It had been a long, long week and the man was coming down. Even Vulcans can’t be alert all the time, especially at his age. 

“It’s only… meditating horizontally.” Spock murmured to himself, peeling himself away to strip from his uniform and precore a more appropriate set of sleepwear. He pulled a silk piece from his precise folds within his drawers, slipping into the snug, sleeveless, shiny black shirt and joggers that had the same look, the same fabric. They were cold too, and Spock actually shivered amongst the alerting sharpness, but not enough to pry him from his need of slumber. The Vulcan slithered back into the bed, dragging his face into the mattress like a child, messing up his startling sharp brows into softened black streaks. His bangs fell off his tart forehead, sprawling against the pillow.   
Spock grumbled, ordered the computer to dim the lights and raise the temperature three-percent (just for safety). 

Then, he was fast asleep. 

~•~

However, unlike Spock, James T. Kirk was zooming around the ship with a bottle of fine scotch from the even finer drunkard of a man, Scotty. The Enterprise was throwing a party to the celebration of Mr. Sulu’s tenth anniversary on Starfleet, and the captain had just made a toast for him in honor of his loyalty to the Federation as well as the damn best helmsman any captain would have the pleasure of having. Thankfully, on shore leave for another three days, Kirk decided to let off some steam, having declined to visit the planet below, with a glass of neat liquor in his system.   
It was only after he escaped the celebration, did his mind tugged him towards his oh so lovely and diligent Spock. But, he wasn’t on the bridge, and the tipsy captain made it his prime narrative to go and find this vagabond Vulcan!

“Ooooh, Spooock,” He whistled, giggling to himself and sneaking about like a goblin through the grotto. “Are you home? Care to have a drink—if you do such a thing, I’d love to join you. Spock?” 

The captain opened the door to Spock’s chambers, obviously not expecting him to see a Vulcan decompressing—but, good gods, Jim’s jaw practically put a hole in the floor coming down. His first officer, right before him, laid sleeping like a mess. Legs, all over the place as if caught in a hammock Spock had just fallen off from; hands, limp and groggy with arms that folded this way and that; face, buried into the cool of his pillow with bed head that left any man speechless at how horrible it looked. Why, you could actually see a glimpse of his forehead.   
The manicured, prestigious Spock of Vulcan, was an ugly sleeper. The Captain almost lost his cool to an explosion of giggles and laughter, but held it down while he tiptoed his way to his hibernating counterpart. Now, he’s slept with Spock before, but Jim never found his partner in such a state. Usually, when they both come down from their highs in bed, Kirk is already passed out from the mind melds and Spock is already up when Kirk comes to. 

“May just be an anniversary all the same to him, huh. Finally celebrating a year’s long working spree with a good, old fashion nap. How cute, Mr. Spock.” Kirk whispered to himself, bringing his luring body to the bedside and taking a gentle, thick finger to the Vulcan’s hair. Jim tucked a piece away, brushing over Spock’s ears and gliding upon the elven point.

The Vulcan hummed deep within his slumber, an animalistic but calm guttural purr, and Kirk felt a heat pool into his stomach.

Wait, Kirk thought, with a minor, drunken panic. This is too cute. 

The human did it again, letting fairy-light touches of his calloused fingertips caress the man’s ears. Another purr, plenty more present this time, but all the same in distance within this “horizontal meditation”. The heat grew violent in Kirk, raising a red to his face from the pool of arousal at his groin. Something about how vulnerable his Spock is at this moment, pulled Kirk with such vigor that the man found himself running his hands into the messy mop that topped Spock’s head, having cupped his nape in the warmth of his palm.

“Haa…” Spock breathed out, having a neon clover green rouge his ears and neck, reacting to the warmth that was applied. Kirk raised a brow, feeling more like an inquisitive researcher than a peeping Tom. 

“Sheesh,” Kirk mumbled. “When a Vulcan sleeps, he sleeps.” 

That’s when Jim did the most dangerous thing he’s ever done; flip a sleeping Vulcan over.   
He was gentle about it, of course, and only marveled more at how Spock’s hair was flat on the side he was sleeping upon. Such a giddy, childish grin formed on Kirk’s golden face, and the human almost lost his arousal to the sheer wholesomeness.   
But, of course, the drunk let his eyes wander and had them bulge in shock at the tent beneath the fresh blanket. 

“Oh my,” Kirk gaped, mute. The crimson shade that painted his face was to die for. He quickly checked Spock’s expression, and sighed in relief that no eyes were open or eyebrows were sneering—apart from the default sneer they had, only for the spike of the design.

The captain only found himself with a watering mouth and a brain going a million miles per hour. Thankfully, the scotch made it more so like, fifteen miles per hour, and sent Kirk down Spock’s flat body, to the tower that saluted the captain.   
Kirk peeled away the blanket, only growing harder in his pants by the clothes Spock wore. He was delicious, even sleeping, and Kirk needed more. He, gently, pulled down Spock’s pants and got hit in the chin by the phallus unfolding from the pressure. Kirk shivered and held a moan, licking up the Vulcan’s member with a cautious tongue.  
The human tasted the self-lubrication, an evolution to the lack of water on Vulcan to do the job, seeping out generously like sap from the ridges along his penis. Kirk always was amused by Spock’s internal set of testes, but the human continued all the same.

“Damnit, Spock…” He hummed, lips sealed around the aqua green tip, letting his tongue dance over the sensitive head, swirling about while he looked up towards Spock’s face. He was punched with a heat, seeing how Spock’s face only remained calm, but had a twitching around the mouth and eyes.   
No need to be paranoid, Jim thought, easily sliding the large cock deeper down his tongue, feeling as if the back of his throat was being prodded and teased. Jim’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, closing them to have the darkness unfold and bring a sense of freedom out from the human.   
Kirk popped off Spock’s dick with a whine to the loss of weight, but his own cock throbbed as well as did his entrance, begging for more from this definitely questionable situation. Then, Jim crawled further upon the bed, having his weight rock the sleeping body beneath him, aligning the swell of his ass right along the saturated cock that twitched at the delicate touch of soft skin. 

With a wide grin, Kirk watched how Spock’s lips slipped open, face pouting at the unknown sensations that enveloped over the Vulcan. How his cheeks burnt clover, eyes twitching behind his violet tinged eyelids, and the pitched breath that escaped his lips. The human bit down on his own bottom lip, digging pearly whites into the plump flesh, and finally plunging his body down on Spock’s length.   
The human hissed, gasping at how big it really was to an unprepared hole. But, Kirk persisted and had his entrance break open and swell around the smooth, soaking wet girth. 

“S-Spock…! Oh, God...” Kirk begged to a dreaming Vulcan, feeling an immense pleasure sizzling in his plump chest and round stomach. He could feel the cock scrape along his walls, sending the ridges into his prostate. “Are you—fuck—even… all the w-way… in…?”

“No, I don’t think I am.” 

Kirk almost screamed, face smacked dumb and stupid, large, golden eyes falling on a groggy but fully awake Spock. The Vulcan had a messy eyebrow raised at his human partner, analyzing the situation through the darkness.   
Before Kirk could say anything amidst his flying hands and choked up words, a sigh could be heard amidst it all, and the captain found his body being slammed onto his back. A strong, large, and thin hand held him down by the chest, ramming a cock deeper into him and practically tearing through his abdomen. 

“AAH—!” Kirk choked out, tears pricking at the corners of his glazed, terrified eyes. “Spock—! S-Spock! I-I’m sorry!” 

The Vulcan only growled like an animal, snapping his thin hips back into his captain, making the human writhe and scream out, having a ping of satisfaction brewing at his verdant groin all the while. Kirk dug his nails into Spock’s back, tearing into the delicate fabric of his shirt, and begging to be pounded by his lover. 

“Captain,” A sleepy, oh so very deep voice sounded, making Kirk gaze up into a shadowed, green tinged, stern face that broke in pleasure. A gentle, sweet, savory kiss was planted upon Kirk’s own, licking over and cupping his face with a careful hand.  
“I’m glad this is the dream that came to me.” 

Flabbergasted and love struck, the dazed Kirk, panting, gulped and mumbled.  
“Huh—NNGH!!” Spock slammed into Jim’s prostate. Nudging it, teasing it, practically milking the most sensitive part of the captain’s body. Jim was losing it, moaning like a whore and calling out for Spock like it was life or death. 

Because, he really did feel like he was gonna die. 

“Spock—! P-Please… Please, S-Spock..!” Tears were streaming down his face, legs ripped apart with his own bobbing cock red and angry from neglect. He could feel Spock’s hold begin to bruise, folding Kirk’s legs down against the bed and away to rip what he could from the human; moans, swears, scratches, obscene, sloppy kisses that made the both of them hot in the face. 

“Talk to me, t'hy'la…” Spock whispered back, slowing down his pumping, between his own moans and the slapping of flesh. 

Kirk’s heart nearly exploded, seeing how gleaming and sweaty his lover had become. Handsome, so very handsome with that concerned gaze but merciless pace. He was positively swooned. 

“God, Spock… T-Touch me,” Kirk called out, bringing his painfully hard and leaking member to Spock’s attention. “Or, mm—ah… gonna lose… d-damn mind…” 

The Vulcan grinned ever so lightly, and brought a teasing finger along the length, making Jim shake and see white, hands becoming fists at the agony. 

“No. You, Captain, should touch it.” 

“Bastard…” But, Kirk didn’t think twice and grabbed his cock, almost exploding in cum the second he did. 

”Proceed, Jim. Ah, you’re more than ever capable of bringing yourself pleasure...” Spock praised, slamming a retracted cock back into the loose hole, capturing the scream from Kirk’s lips with a panting kiss. “Even to use your sleeping subordinate… quite a gift.” 

The embarrassment and shame only brought him on, having a merciless, fast and tight grip upon his cock. Masturbatjng in front of Spock, having a Vulcan dick so deep inside him that his stomach bulged, sent his brain into a frenzy of fireworks. Flashes of blazing white shrouded his eyes, becoming nothing but a slutty captain that got off on cruel eyes watching his every move.

“C-Close—! C-Close… Spock… Spock…!” 

The Vulcan tortured the captain with slow thrusts, making sure the brutalized flesh inside could feel every ridge that tore him up further. 

“Me too, t'hy'la… J-Jim…” 

With a choked sob, Jim exploded in a shriek, coating his stomach and the sheets below him with high, sharp shots of cum. The human fell slack, only to tighten and clamp down on Spock when he felt hot lava be poured, filling him up in a bloat. Kirk gasped, wheezing, having such blurry vision amidst the night, it almost stunned him to feel such a chaste kiss upon his lip from the towering Vulcan whose body went just as slack as Jim’s.   
Spock plummeted back to earth, laying on his back on the bed, catching his own small breath.

Jim laid there, eyes wide and body filled with plenty of sensations. The guilt rolled around, having woken up his Vulcan just to fulfill his drunk desires. This isn’t what bondmates do, the poor man thought this was a dream.   
The captain brought a hand to rest where he found Spock’s, entwining the fingers in a laxed hold. 

“Spock… t-this wasn’t a dream.” Kirk voiced, clear as day into the dark room. “I’m so… I apologize, what I’ve done was disgusting and unprofessional. Even with our relationship, taking advantage of you at a time of rest is—Spock?”

A gentle, feline snore flew into the space between them. The spent alien looked just as peaceful, just the way Jim found him. The captain sighed, seeing how the tables have turned. Kirk held the man, engulfing him in warmth within his hold, pulling up the blanket over his thin body. The human kissed his neck, earning a creaky groan from the other. 

He’ll find out soon enough in the morning.


End file.
